


Louder

by TearoomSaloon



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Voice Kink, everything about this is inappropriate lbr, get over here we're doing this you pervy fucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6597862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/TearoomSaloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He needed to hear her voice. Needed to hear her scream for him, need him, for her to come apart under him. They couldn't be doing this, they couldn't—they were getting so obvious thanks to her inability to be quiet for one damn second. </p><p>He'd have to do cleanup in the morning to make sure no one remembered what they had heard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Louder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KagamiSorciere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagamiSorciere/gifts), [Ellensama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellensama/gifts).



> This is almost 2000 words of just porn. There's nothing here but porn.
> 
> You can thank those two for the existence of this, because I sure as hell didn't come up with the idea on my own.

It's getting obvious, far too obvious.

It was one thing to have a prisoner on board, another to have…well, whatever noisy mess she'd become. They had spent the better half of two weeks growling and hissing at each other, neither about to bend to the other's will. He wanted information from her, she wanted out. It left for a bad combination and a sour taste in his mouth. Especially when she had to go about looking like _that_ , all strong muscles and piercing eyes. She'd catch him off guard every few interactions and he'd need to calm his breathing before he could get his rage back in order.

And then, of course, all the hostility went to shit.

He had gotten too close to her, locked up in the holding cell. His hands had found her shoulders as he berated her for being so _foolish_ and she bit him. He'd been stupid enough to get right in her face and she _bit him on the lips_. He growled, she hissed back, and after a tense moment he'd shoved her hard against the wall, her legs kicking up to constrict around his waist and they'd fought for dominance with their lips and teeth.

He's certain most of the crew took the resulting bruised and split lip for a fistfight or something of the sort, something purely aggressive, not… _whatever that was_.

It happened, again. And again. He'd come away with imprints of her hands all over his neck and arms, her sporting red splotches and scrape marks on her throat. They looked bruised and bloodied, like vicious animals at war.

Which was far, far from the truth.

"Can you kriffing _hurry up?_ "

Kylo is all but tearing the layers of his garb off, standing tall at the foot of his bed. He narrows his eyes at her, pulling off a glove in the most painstakingly slow manner, keeping their gazes locked as he lets it flutter to the floor.

"Have some patience."

"It's hard to be patient when you keep _broadcasting your thoughts_ at me. Do you have a _clue_ how dirty they are most of the time?" She's naked already, laying half under his sheets. One of her hands has dipped below to rest between her hips, stroking the growing wetness at the juncture of her thighs.

Her neediness earns her another eye roll and a detailed image of what he plans to do with her disobedient hands in the coming hour.

"Are you going to keep it down tonight?"

She laughs. "And not get to watch what it does to you? _No_."

He makes a frustrated noise but does poorly to hide his growing arousal at the thought. The last of his robes on the floor, he walks around the side of the bed to meet her, eyes lingering on her wonderful perky breasts. He's going to tease those raw tonight—

"Eyes up here," she says, wrapping her hand around his length.

"Well now it's hard not to look down."

She moves her hands to his shoulders as he climbs on top, knees on either side of her hips. "I'd love to hear you beg, just once."

"I'm not a beggar, Rey." His fingers dip to meet hers, slicking easily into her, all parts of her center wet, hot, and absolutely ready for him. "If you'd _waited_ , I could have done this for you." He plucks at the spot just inside the one that makes her groan like she's never been touched before. "Don't my fingers feel better?"

"If I say yes, is that conceding defeat?"

"Hmm." He presses his mouth to her throat, sucking under her ear until her breathing stalls. "Yes."

"Then you have to work for it, if you want to win."

She's in his bed, ready for no one else but him; hasn't he already won?

He likes to prove himself, he really does. An overachiever to the highest degree, he'd say he's won the sounds he draws from her lips. So he continues with his ministrations while patching her throat with red suckle marks until she's _panting_ his name. The sweetest fucking sound he's ever heard. He loves her neck, but her breasts are just as nice, soft and lovely to the touch. He runs his teeth across the left one carefully, ghosting over her skin with his breath. Her fingers are yanking hard on his hair when he takes her nipple into his mouth, pressing him harder against her.

" _Fuck_ , _Kylo_ ," she whines, one of her legs climbing up to rest against his side. That's a mistake and she knows it, knows he'll just have better access to that one _super_ sensitive spot—

Rey bites back a sob, nails raking down his back. It draws a breathy growl from his chest, digging up the need to explore her deeper, faster, more frenzied. She's close to tears from the feeling and he moves his other hand to cover her mouth.

"Everyone's going to _hear you_ ," he hisses.

"I don't— _kriff_ —I don't care. A little, little lower—"

The moan to follow was _definitely_ audible from the hallway.

He smirks, removing his hand from between them, drawing his fingers in his mouth to suck clean. She protests his absence with another heady whine, struggling to touch herself—that's not allowed in this game, not anymore.

"Calm _down_ , I haven't even gotten around to eating you out yet."

"I was so _close_ ," she growls, relaxing back into the pillows. "You do this _every_ time."

"I do what every time?" he asks innocently, cupping a breast gently. She has cute nipples, he thinks, and he's not sure where the thought comes from. They're a pretty pink, pebbled and puckered and so _delicious_ looking. He pinches one between his fingers and takes the other with his teeth.

" _Kylo!_ " She's pushing his shoulders down now, pushing him back to where she needs him between her legs. "Please, _Force_ , please just, just—"

"Please _what?_ "

"I want to come. I want your mouth on me and I want to come louder than I've been—" and she loses the thought to another sound when his mouth meets her clit, sucking it, rolling it with his tongue. He rubs the skin on either side with his thumbs, swirling around once more before dipping to taste her. Oh, she's gorgeous like an aged wine, perfect, sweet, so faintly tinted with rich fruits. He could stay here forever between her thighs, taken in the utmost pleasure of sating her like this.

He hooks his arms around her hips to anchor her as she bucks, her hands balling into anything nearby. She's so _loud_ when she comes, his name rolling from her lungs until she's floating in nothingness. He rises up to kiss her through the aftershocks, to let her moans buffer against his lips. Her mind's not there enough to focus on kissing and he chuckles into the heat of her neck.

"Are you hard yet?" she whispers when she comes down, her fingers tracing circles into his bicep.

"I've _been_ hard since I walked in on you naked in my bed. That _does_ things to me."

"Oh, I _know_."

He can't hold back the grin on his face. It gets wider when he spreads her thighs, nudging the head of his cock against her entrance. She hums at the sensation, wiggling her hips until he drags his tip up and down her folds.

"I wish you had a mirror on the ceiling," she says slowly. "I'd love to watch myself getting fucked so _hard_ by you."

"I wish I had a _gag_ to stifle all those moans you keep making."

Her breath hitches when he presses into her and she gives him an airy giggle. "No you don't."

No, he really didn't.

The second he has a rhythm built up, she's sobbing again. It's one of the strangest noises she makes, the loud, almost crying moan that comes with pressure shallowly inside. It sounds better when she's on top, or when—

He pulls out and she groans loudly in protest. Kylo puts his feet on the synthwood floor before yanking her by the hips back to him. She gasps at his bruising hold, eagerly reaching a leg up to rest on his shoulder. He brings the other up and presses back into her, relishing in the heavy sigh it brings.

"You're so kriffing _tight_ like this," he grits, wrapped pleasantly up in her heat.

"Can—can you get deeper? Only a little mo _re_. _Oh, fuck_." Her voice climbs an octave, fingers scrambling for him. " _Fuck,_ Kylo. Oh, _fucking Force_."

"That's not your best choice of words."

She looks up at him in a brief confusion before he slams his sensations into her, everything he's feeling right now—her heat, her wetness, how kriffing _amazing_ it is to grip her hips, feel the mix of softness and hard muscle on her body. How _wonderful_ those moans are.

"But don't you—"

" _Moan_ for me, Rey. _Louder_."

He bleeds his arousal into her through their bond, how _badly_ he needs her to come for him again, to hear those filthy sounds from her seemingly innocent mouth.

" _Kylo_."

It's soft, too soft. So he drives his point home with the deepest thrust he can manage, their bodies so tightly together he can't tell where she starts and he ends.

" _Force_. Kriff, _Kylo,_ _ **Kylo**_."

Her breathy groans fill up the room, fill up his ears as he spills himself inside her, his arms trembling, his legs weak from the forcefulness of his orgasm. He curls inward and his forehead rests so lightly against hers as his breath comes out in little moans. Her legs fall from his shoulders and she pants with him, draping her arms lamely around his neck.

He doesn't remember nestling into the pillows, barely remembers wrapping her up tightly in his arms. The sound she makes when he pulls her hard against his chest is more of content than need and he decides he really likes that one as well.

"I'm getting you a gag."

"No you're not."

No, he's really not.

 

But what he has to do now is perhaps worse than a gag.

No one was supposed to… _know_ that she stayed in his quarters, shared his bed. He wasn't supposed to be fucking the prisoner, especially when he wasn't even doing it for _information_. That might have been a brief thought a few months ago, but now, gods, no, he's not going to _use_ her like that.

And because of these sexcapades, he has to clean up. Himself and his sheets, definitely, but also the minds of everyone in the vicinity of his chambers. It's a hassle, running around to track down _every_ trooper and maintenance worker who could have possibly heard them rutting like beasts in heat. It's such a long list that he complains about it in the morning as he's dressing—or trying to, since his fingers keep creeping up her legs while she half-listens to his lament. Her mind is still a fuzzy mess from the night before.

"You get off to it, don't you?" she asks as he strokes her clit, making a very vain effort to tie his pants with one hand. "Knowing that people can hear me because of you."

"Absolutely not," he lies.

When he's dressed, he leaves her there in his dark blue sheets, knowing she'll be dozing again by the time he returns. It's a vicious cycle, though. As soon as he's finished wiping this set of poor unsuspecting listeners, he'll be bothered for her again, wiping memories doing nothing but reminding him of her sounds, her mewls, her _inability_ _to_ _shut up_ under him. Oh, and only under him, only from his touch. He is the only one who can do those things to her, for her.

"Tell me," he'll whisper into her ear later that night, while she's down on her knees, her hips angled so he can thrust deeply into her, to draw out those low moans she makes so much. "Tell me how I'm the only one who can do this."

"You're the only one I _want_ to do this," she'll say back—she tells him so over their bond.

When he's a quarter way through with fixing last night's little mess, she tells him _everything_ she wants him to do later, and it takes more willpower than he has not to ruin his progress for the sake of hearing her voice, hot and heavy and loud. All for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Conclusion: don't talk to me about noise kink okay, I'll turn red and die or something


End file.
